Today I received a wonderful letter from my best friend who lost her Mother a little while back. After asking her permission, I would like to share part of that email and it's heartwarming story. For anyone who has lost a parent or someone close to them, there will always be special moments after they are gone, where we wonder what they would have said or how they would have reacted.
It's the little things after losing someone dear that we remember. These small things trigger our own memories that we've often forgot or just simply put into the back of our minds.
Recently, Tornado Alley (Kansas, Nebraska, Oklahoma) was struck with some deadly tornado's and weather. Lawrence and Tokepa Kansas were a few of the towns that were hit. Lawrence is where we went to school and Topeka is where my friends family lives. Here is the letter she sent to many who were affected or know the family:
Thanks for the update on the weather and the tornado warnings. Mom used to keep me updated, and now, I have to call Dad to ask if he's alright after a Kansas tornado is reported on the national news. Last time he said, "oh ya, no problem. But there was some mightly big hail. Bob had baseball sized hail on his property." (Mom would have called me while it was happening, all excited.)
Yes, tornado alley has made it's 20 year swing and is now, directly upon Kansas again. With the extra dramatic weather effect from global warming, these years are going to be more dangerous or exciting, depending on how you see it.
Keep a virgin and a big meat cleaver close-by during this season. You know the old wives tale, don't you? If a funnel cloud is coming towards you, get a young virgin girl to take the biggest knife in the house. Have her stand, outside, facing the funnel, and slice down with the knife, like she's slicing it in two. It will dissipate.
Ok, I know it sounds silly, but it happened to my Mom when she was young, growing up in Liberal Kansas. Mom, her sister, her baby brother and parents were all at the Country Club, eating dinner during a storm because their electricty had gone out. The wind was blowing hard and rain was falling sideways. Mom remembers the light coming in the windows was that dark grey/green color. At one point, the old cook busted through the swinging doors, ran out into room waving a meat cleaver above her head and yelled that she needed a virgin! My Grandma looked at Mom shook her head and shoved my Aunt Annie towards the cook. The cook grabed my aunt and drug her outside. Aunt Annie said she was more afraid of the cook with the big knife than any old storm. (She was pretty young.) Aunt Annie did what she was told to do. She stood with her feet wide apart, facing the funnel cloud that was coming across the golf course. She held firmly onto the handle of the knife with both hands, and sliced down. The cloud immediately whipped apart and dissapated, going back up into the clouds.
I wish I'd had a tape recorder when Aunt Annie and Mom told that story together. The anicdotes about my Grandma not being sure Mom was a virgin or not, were hilarious. It's also interesting that my Grandma understood why the cook with a meat cleaver needed a virgin. Or maybe she didn't know, but was willing to sacrafice my Aunt to a crazed, knife weilding cook, anyway. Ahhh, the things I miss are many.
-Enjoy the storms,
-A
Tornados. Something you get used to in the Midwest. Sometimes on a weekly basis during the summer. My Mother is the one who would be downstairs in the basement, setting up camp like it's the end of the world. Dad and I would be the ones out on the back or front porch watching the approaching storms, waiting until the last minute before heading downstairs with my Mother who was yelling at us to run for cover.
Often words were never spoken. Just Father and Son, watching the beauty and power of an approaching storm.
Thanks for all the great feedback regarding our Gay Bathroom. Funny how many people really liked the pink one also. If you had walked into the bathroom before remodeling, you might think differently. Years of paint on the walls, cracked/stained tiles, floor tile that didn't match, cracked/stained sink and toilet, 1980's mirrow and light fixtures and a bathtub barely big enough to hold me and I'm a skinny little shit.
We wanted to show you our kitchen today, but alas Jose the Contractor wasn't able to finish the fine details yesterday due to the fact we bought the wrong halogen accent lighting. Who knew. We'll try again for tomorrow. Instead last night we found ourselves drawn towards Homo Depot. The tools and wood were calling our name. We were instantly drawn towards an area rug for our diningroom. The Homo Depot gods were for us. When we got to the cash register, it was 20% off. In the immortal words of Ms. Ceily from The Color Purple, Der is a God! Der is a GGGOOOOODDDDD!
In other news:
Work sucks as usual.
Must visit the Ex again.
Never sign onto chat late at night allowing your business analyst to see you online. They want you to start working.
I'm already ready for the weekend, although no drinking will be allowed.
I'm excited about GB:NYC3.
The Cable guys hot little 18 year old helper, pooped in our new black toilet yesterday and stopped it up with almost an entire roll of toilet paper. Boy, was he ever embarrassed.
He's lucky I wasn't there to kick his ass or hump his leg.
Here's what our "some sort of nastyass colored pink" bathroom looked like before. Obviously it hadn't been updated since the day it was built back in 1954. I'm just surprised they didn't try to accent the pink with turquoise tiles.
Here's our new and improved bathroom, which I have to say we're pretty proud about. You can notice not only was the tiling redone, but the arrangement is completely different, new walls, new ceiling, new fixtures, new everything. Only shitty part is how much dusting and cleaning we have to do now that we have an all black bathroom.
Who knows, maybe pics of the kitchen transformation tomorrow. That's if we get off our asses and make sure it's completely packed away and clean tonight.
Every square inch of space was covered like this. The barbacks couldn't keep up with clearing off the tables or emptying out the trach. But as promised, here are some photos from Sundays Bears and Debauchery weekend. Funny thing though is that we only saw one penis out of it's pants and it honestly wasn't worth taking a photo. But the supply of hot hunky, hairy men made up for it. Here's a few pics of us and the Bear Red Carpet. Click on the icons below.
For the entire photo album, click here.
Coming soon will be pics of the condo. We made so much headway last night it was unbelieveable. You might want to sit down for the next part. Go ahead. You ready? I actually got out some tools and put up the toilet paper roll, hand towel and towel racks in both bathrooms. By myself. Took me two hours, but I got it done.
Who needs a contractor?
I am totally and 100% Bear'd out. There, I made up a new word. This weekend was the Texas Bear Round Up. Our version of the West Coasts Lazy Bear Weekend. I didn't realize that people actually came to this even from all over the country. Wyoming, California, Florida, Seattle. Hell, even some Aussie boys were here.
Friday night we had the chance to have dinner with one of Brian's old friends. Her and her friend were in town buying horses. The funny thing is that I picture walking up to rows of horses, some with sale signs over their heads. I pick out my favorite color, sit on the horse and see how it fits. Take the horse to an accessory shop and by a matching saddle and riding outfit. From what I understand it's nothing like that. We all had a great time, especially Brian getting the chance to get caught up. She was hilarious and foul mouthed. I loved her.
Saturday, Jose the Contractor and his friends showed up to put the final touches on our kitchen. Everything is done except some accent lighting above and below the cabinets. I spent the rest of the day putting together the living and dining rooms. There was one moment there when I got a little teary eyed and thought to myself, this is home. This is ours.
We bought tickets for the TBRU dinner and competition. Picture a Miss America pageant but only with a lot more hair. Everywhere. Let me just say the swimsuit competition alone was worth the 30 dollar ticket price. Sad thing was that with all the hunky, handsome, hairy men in the audience, the competition had only one good looking man in it as far as we were concerned. Next year they should just drag people out of the audience for the competition. After a good old fashioned meal, half naked men in their underwear and Shegotta Mustache being a hilarious and raunchy host, we decided our night wasn't over. We headed to Throckmorton Mining Company for some half naked dancing and ended up at The Dallas Eagle which had to shut down liquor service around 1am due to the fire marshall being called. Seems they were way over the maximum capacity. That was our cue to go home.
Tired and slightly hung over Sunday morning, we got our asses out of bed, tried to do some work, eat some lunch and headed to The Hidden Door for the TBRU Bear Bust. The place was asses to elbows. Took a half an hour to get a drink or go to the bathroom. If I had one more sweaty belly rub up against my back I was going to throw a hissy fit. People were standing up on ledges and benches just to get a good view and take pictures. You would have thought it was the red carpet at The Oscars. Every time a hot bear walked through the crowd, they had to stop numerous times for photo opportunities. Yes, I brought my camera and took some pics so don't worry. Hopefully will get them uploaded to an album by tomorrow.
The crowd was unbelieveable and so were some of the men. Who by the way, get very friendly when they get out of town and get some alcohol in them. But it will be a very long time before I'll want to hear Grrr! or Woof! sounds for a while.
Best part about the whole weekend?
We walked to and from the bar.
I don't think I've ever been more ready for a weekend in my entire life. Thank goodness this week flew by despite the work and condo drama. I'm ready for my life to get back into a normal routine, work going smoother (or a different job) and not knowing where half our shit is because it's buried in some box somewhere.
Jose the Contractor is cute and all, but he needs to finish the hell up and get the hell out. We're so close to being 100% finished it's not even funny. Piece of trim here, towel rack there, patched piece of wall over there, door knob put back on back there. Oh and we have no countertops still. Jose makes lots of jokes telling us not to hire white guys because they're too expensive. Everytime I say how much some contractor wanted to charge us for something, he asks us if he was white and proceeds to give us the name of one of his friends instead. Hate to say this, but he and his friends are drastically cheaper and do wonderful work.
Just fucking takes him forever. I know, breathe. It will get finished.
A few days ago, Brian and I went to see a movie called Gay Sex in the 70's. It's a documentary taking us through the lives of some individuals who were out in the late 60's, and what it was like living in New York City in the 70's. The documentary, which was surprisingly graphic, takes you through the highs and eventually the lows of what life must have been like. Dancing at The Saint, hanging out at St Mark's Baths or having tons of sex at The Piers. I was glad the movie didn't just show the wonderful side of the 70's. It ended with everyones reaction to the gay cancer scare. This truly is a documentary you don't want to miss.
As I said, I'm ready for the weekend. The Texas Bear Round Up is going on this weekend and I'm sure the Beer Bust at The Door will be more festive then usual.
Now I just have to decide if I need to bring my camera.
Last night was another trip to the hospice. The place has been very quiet and empty lately. Either some have passed on or have gotten better and not in need of constant care. I'm afraid it's probably the former.
I got the Ex out of the house for a bit to do a little shopping, stop by his apartment, pick up his mail and cash a check. By the time we made it to his apartment which he still pays for, he was pretty dizzy and needed to rest. While sitting there, he started to cry and begged me to give him some advice.
It's advice that I have been putting off since the day he went into hospice. He feels that giving up his apartment and belongings means that he's giving up on life. Getting rid of all his things means he has nothing left. I felt for the longest time that it wasn't a decision I could make for him. The stress over this situation had gotten to him so bad, he made me give my opinion on what I would do in his case.
I told him that he was basically paying $500 a month for storage, when he could have all his things put into a storage unit instead and only pay $75 a month. I told him we could bring all we could from his place to the hospice, donate items to charity that he didn't wear anymore or had no use of. I told him we could put his furniture, TV and knick knacks in storage, so that way he wouldn't be giving all his belongings away. He honestly doesn't have much to begin with. They would be just put away for safe keeping in the hopes of one day him getting better.
This seemed to make him feel better. I don't know what I would do in his situation. Trying to figure out if you would ever get out of hospice. Should you keep the apartment? Give away all your belongings? Does it mean you're giving up? Questions I hope to God I never have to answer.
After calming him down, we talked of getting him new sweat pants and shirts that fit him. He still wears the size large that fit him 4 years ago. I told him we could get him some new t-shirts that aren't stained and new baseball hats that aren't ten sizes too big for his head. I told him we could talk to the doctor about the smells from the colostomy bag and what could be done. He had started taking pills for that problem, but they haven't seem to start working yet. It makes him not want to go out in public and I don't blame him. The smell gets to me after a while.
All this does to him, is make him be a hermit. Makes him less social and not ever want visitors. I have many friends who want to visit him, but he's told me not to allow them to see him like that.
I don't know what else to say.
This fucking disease sucks.
Lately I've been noticing the decline of something. No, not my moral standards, although some might doubt that. No, not Bush's approval rating, although I'm happy as a pig in mud about that one. I'm talking about the customer service attention one receives from your local fast food chain, restaurant, bar, department store or even customer service department at your local utilities or phone company.
What happened to listening to the customer, paying attention to their needs or concerns, trying to figure out a solution to their problems and saying it with a smile or nice tone in their voice? What happened to waiters, bartenders or the kid behind the fast food counter acting like he gave a damn about his job, said hello, welcome or good afternoon? Why does everyone seem to act like they're totally put out when they have to help you? When your food takes forever, why do you not even get a "sorry, this took so long" response? Why does a bartender worry about chatting it up with an already paying patron rather then coming over and seeing what you would like to drink? Why is returning an item to a department store becoming one of the most difficult things on this entire planet to do?
Now, I know there's a lot of asshole customers out there that are trying to get something for free or have a horrible attitude, quick to cuss someone out or are just plain mean. But anyone in the service industry knows, that this is par for the course. People like that come and go. The shitty thing, is it makes it bad for the rest of us who are just wanting to get good customer service.
If I'm paying 12 dollars for a fucking sandwich at a local deli chain, which last I heard is nothing more then sliced deli meat between two pieces of bread, and I'm told to have a seat and it would be brought out to me, don't fucking take 15 minutes to make my sandwich, worry more about cleaning your area so you can go home early, then finally MAKE our food then wave me over from clear across the entire restaurant to come get it. Oh, and don't bother to explain why it took so long and why you all found it more important to laugh, cut up, chit chat and pick your nose. If that happens again, I might have to reach across the counter and bitch slap that pimply face of theirs.
This latest example is just what I've seen the past few months more and more. Customer service reps on the phone who don't really want to help you. Fast food kids who walk around like there's dead lice dropping off of them. People saying their coming to install countertops on your new cabinets this past weekend and don't show, never call and never even show up the next day. People who act put out when you ask where the dressing room is or if a certain item is 50% off or not.
Has anyone else noticed this? I come from a big customer service background. Fast food throughout highschool and college, waiting tables during college and grad school and retail clothing thrown into the mix. There was always two rules. Rule #1: The Customer is Always right. Rule #2: If the customer isn't right, refer to rule number one. We bit our tongue numerous times , often put on a fake smile, but we always gave good service. Maybe times have changed from my days back in the 80's and 90's.
Maybe we've become a self service society where we shouldn't give a shit whether or not we're treated with respect or courtesy, but dammit I'm paying for these services aren't I?
For a fleeting moment there, I felt like Judy Garland this weekend. Minus the pigtails, dog, plaid dress and ruby slippers.
This weekend brought torrential rains which from what I understand, totaled almost 7 inches in two days. This could put a damper on most peoples weekends, but not ours. Saturday morning, we got up early, packed our clothing, made the bed and then said goodbye's to our gracious hosts who put up with us invading their home for the past 3 weeks.
Really great friends can be hard to come by. Brian and I are lucky to have so many, Brandon and Dusty being at the top of the list. Thanks again guys, for letting us crash at your pad.
Since going outside and dealing with downpours like I've never seen and streets flooding everywhere you turned, we stayed indoors and organized, organized and then did some more organizing. While thunder and lightening filled our condo with flashes of light and vibrated our windows, we often found ourselves just sitting quietly, staring out the window or just simply walking through the rooms, looking over every square inch. We were finally home. It felt like home.
We made a home together.
It didn't hurt that we officialy got to christen the place. Just one room though. The rest of the place is full of boxes piled up to the ceiling and downstairs is filled with new furniture that was delivered yesterday or all of Jose's tools and supplies, sitting there waiting to finish the kitchen.
During the early evening, Brad came over to see our progress and then grab some dinner. Afterwards we all went to see V for Vendetta. If you want to see one of the most political movies, aimed at slamming our own government, then go see this film. I was blown away.
We all were.
I bet you thought I was kidding? <---Link to GB Stuff!
GB:NYC3 June 2-4, 2006
When: Friday June 2, 2006
Where: New York City, NY
Venue: Barrage
Time: 7pm-whenever
Other ideas are being thrown around. Jess and Marc have offered to do another BBQ on Saturday, starting around noon. It was a great, intimate way of talking and seeing people rather then the packed house of bloggers the night before. It's been suggested that Saturday night, we tackle The Eagle for something a bit different. Other ideas for Saturday night were a club called XL. Maybe we can do both. Sunday it's been suggested we have either a brunch or lunch with those who want to see people before some of us have to fly back home.
Will keep everyone updated of anything that's set in stone over the next few months. Save your dollars, book a flight and come get crazy with the rest of us. It's an event you won't want to miss. If anyone else has any other suggestions, please send them to me or comment and I'll throw the ideas around.
I bet y'all are just itching to see some photo's of our Condo. Hell, even Life Magazine and the National Enquirer have been camping out all night for the past week just waiting to get a glimpse inside our humble abode for one precious shot. I'm sure everyone th inks we're moving into the Taj Mahal or something. It's a simple, small condo that suits are needs at this time.
Last night we were happy to see that the bathroom upstairs was 95% complete. Laying black granite all over it was quite a chore for our contractor and he was quick to point that out. The upstairs bedrooms are completely done, floors, doors and the painting. The hallway and stairs will be finished today and our Kitchen cabinets will be hung today. By tomorrow, the tile should be installed as will the countertops. I'm sure painting downstairs will be completed by Friday as well.
Owning a home for me is like owning a car. I could change my oil, filters or belts, but why when you can pay someone to do it for you. Plus I can't stand the thoughts of grease up in my nails. The same goes for the condo. We could take classes at Homo Depot and do a lot of the work ourselves, but screw that shit. I'd rather pay someone to have it done. It's easier and I don't get paint or caulking in my nails.
Which reminds, me I need a manicure.
Anyone wanting to steal the GB:NYC3 logo on the left to use for their own site to help advertise, please feel free to do so. I'm sure t-shirts will be coming available within a few days. Who know, maybe even coffee mugs, trucker hats, mouse pads and manpurses.
The official GB:NYC3 cockring is still in the works.
Condo coming along faster then shit from a bunny on Exlax and I'm as anxious as a hooker on crack at the thoughts of moving in this weekend. Yes, pictures are forthcoming. I'm working on pics from the weekend. Sometimes life is just busier then a one armed paperhanger. I can't seem to keep up.
Anyone going to GB:NYC trinity, please email me ideas for things to do Saturday and possibly Sunday afternoon. We're thinking Lunch on Saturday and some place to hang out Saturday night. Sunday could be possibly a picnic at the park? Let me know soon.
What and exhausting weekend. It seemed as if we were on the go from Friday after work until late last night. I apologize for not being able to post pictures from the weekend today. Hopefully I can get them uploaded tonight and show them tomorrow.
Friday night we went to hear the Dallas Symphony. A co-worker gets tickets all the time and never seems to have the time to go. Immediately after work, we headed down to the condo, went and had a few beers, had a nice dinner and then the symphony. I forget how much I miss doing things like that.
Saturday we were up at the butt ass crack of dawn. The friends we're staying with are selling their home so they were having people show it all weekend. Brian and I headed down to the gayborhood for breakfast at our usual diner. I was trying to figure out why the place was packed with so many straight people and not a homo in sight. Then I remembered that most are probably still sleeping off their drinking from the night before. We visited my Ex at the hospice, had some lunch, shopped at Lowe's Home Improvement Store and then went back to the condo to work. Afterwards, we had to rush back and get ready for dinner.
Ed and his partner were in town from DC visiting friends. Ed's one of the handful of bloggers (who doesn't blog anymore) I first started reading a few years ago when I started myself. After an exhausting dinner with a bunch of drunk people from the St. Paddy's Day Parade, we headed to a private benefit party. Kegs, margarita machines and 200 men. Couldn't get much better then that. This is the house we went to recently which is so stunning and even has a mote, river, waterfall (whatever) that runs in the middle of their home, right in front of their bedroom. We had a wonderful time with the boys and can't wait to see them again. I'm sorry we weren't able to hang with them Sunday, but they called us while we were drunk at The Hidden Door for the beer bust.
Yes, thats right. Since we had to be out of the house again on Sunday, what better way to spend the afternoon then drinking at The Door. All I have to say, is that it was an afternoon and night of men showing their pee pee's and I just happen to have my camera in my hand. Among other things. Why I have this knack to get men to show me their dicks, is beyond me.
Now you're really wishing I had posted the pics today, aren't you?
On a side note, it looks as if GB:NYC Trinity is going to happen the first weekend in June. The normal meeting at Barrage will be on Friday June 2nd, starting around 7pm. So far that is all that is definately planned, but over the next few weeks hopefully we'll have some other things planned for Saturday and possibly Sunday. I'll keep people informed as things develope.
I remember the days back in grade school and junior high. I always looked forward to picture day. My Mom would take me out shopping for a new pair of pants and shirt. I would have a new haircut a week before so it would have a few days of "growing out" in case it looked bad.
If I lined up every picture from those years, you'll find one thing in common other then my platinum blonde hair and the really bad plaid shirts my Mom forced me to wear. Smack dab in the middle or side of my upper lip was a big old cold sore. I must have been a nervous child or God started hating me at a young age. I would wake up the morning of picture day every single year with a pulsating cold sore. Picture day was always ruined.
Luckily, picture day doesn't exist at our age. I woke up yesterday morning with one large enough to have it's own zip code. I swear this thing is so big it could knock things over if I weren't careful. It arrives everywhere I go, ten minutes before I do.
To top that off, my skin is getting that raw, tender feeling you get prior to having shingles. Now, I've had shingles one time in my life a few years ago and next to kidney stones, was the 2nd most painful thing to have. Since then, once a year or so, my skin will get the burning sensation but always goes away. The last two days, the sensation has traveled from the right side of my head and face, to my right shoulder, then my right forearm and now my right hand.
My cold sore is on the right hand side of my upper lip.
Feel like I'm in gradeschool today.
Anyone want to kiss me?
Last night I went to see my Ex. He's been staying at a hospice since a few weeks ago. I've visited him before, but it was nothing like it was last night. By the time I usually arrive, most visitors are gone and patients are in their beds relaxing or sleeping.
When I arrived, a very friendly hispanic man greeted me. While walking through the kitchen to get to my Ex's room, a man was sitting at the table being fed by the man who greeted me. Obviously he's a nurse on staff. The man had all the symptoms of the last stages of AIDS and Dementia had obviously set in for quite some time. The look in his eyes as he saw me walk into the room is something I will never forget. A look of pure loneliness and helplessness. I kindly put my arm around him and said hello. I couldn't understand any of the words that came out of him. The young hispanic guy then spoke to him in spanish. The man again looked up at me with eyes that pleaded for attention. At this point I didn't know what to say, so I just smiled at him, patted him on his shoulder and kept going.
As I walked to my Ex's room, a door to another patients room was open. A room that has been set up to resemble someones real bedroom, not a hospital room like some of the others. Another man was sitting on the edge of the bed. He was covered in sores and probably weight no more then 110 pounds. The man was talking incoherently, making loud strange noises, while his partner patiently took care of him, getting him ready for his bath.
I walked into my Ex's room to find him asleep, woke him up and told him I was going to give him a haircut. It had been ages since his last one so I teased him for looking like something out of the 70's. As I stood there working, the smells of vomit and feces filled the air. Something must have happened down the hall. The yells and screams of another patient echoed through the place. He obviously was upset about something. Nurses were busy in the other rooms working with other patients. I've heard this man yell and scream a lot before.
My Ex had so much trouble sitting in the chair while I cut his hair. The pain was getting to him, so we had to take a couple breaks to get it finished. Afterwards, I cleaned up the floor, cleaned him up and helped him get dressed. While all of this was going on, all the events of the entire evening started playing through my head. The smells were getting worse and the yells, yelps and wails of the patients were becoming unbearable. I wanted to run.
I was doing everything in my power not to break down right then and there which is something I can't do. Have to be strong for others, right?
After saying our goodbyes and giving each other a hug, he told me that he loved me and thanked me for helping him and coming to see him. As I walked out the front door, still trying to keep from falling apart, I passed the man who was taking care of his partner earlier. His partner was sitting there enjoying a cigarette with everyone else on the front porch. I said my goodbyes, thanked the nurses for all their help and headed to my car.
The minute I sat down and closed the door, I cried for my Ex for the first time.
Brian and I have talked and think we are able to come to NYC to do some sort of GB:NYC3, but are thinking of coming up there the night of June 1st which is a Thursday and leave Sunday night. Friday night would be the normal meet and greet and the rest of the weekend would be lunches, dinners, drinking, hanging with whomever we can get together with at whatever times.
This gives anyone I would think enough time to plan a trip up there if they would like. Any input from people out there would be greatly appreciated. We figured May was a busy month for many people and plus the weather can be a little unpredictable like it was last year. We froze our asses off and it rained half the time.
Let us know!
Little by little things seem to be coming together.
Work is finally becoming something I understand. I don't walk around my office with a constant scowl on my face, ready to bite the head off of anyone that even looks at me wrong. I'm sure my co-workers are pleased.
Once the move was complete, my sinus infection/cold/bird flu crap that I've had for a month and couldn't seem to get rid of, has finally seem to have gone away. I'm no longer a snot producing machine.
Advancements on the condo by my standards were dragging, then all of the sudden there's new sheetrock put up everywhere, fixed ceilings, patched walls, clean new floors, tile in the bathroom, kitchen gutted, cabinets and countertops ordered and new stainless steel appliances on their way. It's gotten to the point where we want to run by there every day and see how much more has been done. Jose The Contractor really likes us and wants to do a great job and get us into our place as quick as possible. He originally estimated the end of March and now, 70% of it will be done by the end of the week so we can at least move in while they finish the kitchen.
I can live without a kitchen. I can't live without a bathroom. Speaking of bathrooms, Brian got his way and got his black toilet and sink. We decided at the last minute and shelled out the extra cash at Homo Depot. Or was it Home Expo? They all become alike to me after a while. If you ever see two glassy eyed homo's, confused as hell and wandering around in circles at any Dallas home improvement store, it's probably us. Someone please leave a trail of cheetos or something on the floor so we can find our way out the front door.
We still walk through the condo and it doesn't feel like it's ours. It feels like an apartment that hasn't been fully prepared for us yet. I'm sure when we make our first payment it will definately feel like ours.
Hmmm. I wonder what we're going to do our first night in the place?
What's a person to do after having a pretty hellish past couple weeks? You probably already guessed it. Take some time out for yourself and let all hell break loose. At a bar. With alcohol. Followed by mexican food.
The details are a tad bit fuzzy. The last thing I remember at the bar was standing in a dark corner with 4 or 5 hot, hairy cubs (Brian included of course) all with our penises out, stroking each other. I have to say, that this time I was not the instigator of the group like I normally am. We were innocent bystanders who got dragged into the group and our pants unzipped. I'm not 100% sure, but I think I came and so did a few others. It's sad when you can't completely remember.
We're so bad.
I can clearly remember my first day of Literature class back in 9th grade. It was the first class of my first day and first year in Highschool. The old grey haired woman, who seemed to be ancient in my eyes, didn't treat us like kids but rather young adults. I knew I was going to love that teacher and enjoy every minute of her class. It's not often a highschool kid can say that about a teacher or class, especially something related to reading, writing or math in my opinion.
Up until that point, I had never been much of a reader. My Mother on the other hand, went to the library on a weekly basis and came home with 3-4 books each time. Reading was her passion and her escape from the daily life of being a mother and housewife. She would encourage me to read, but I had better things to do with my free time like playing outdoors with my friends or spending hours on the bedroom floor, filling up pages of drawing books.
After introducing herself to us, telling us about herself and making us feel welcome and at ease, she gave us a list of books that we would be reading throughout the semester. At the top of the list was a book entitled "In Cold Blood" by Truman Capote. A book she had mentioned, that many parents in the past had thought shouldn't be given to 9th graders. Of course we were instantly intrigued. She then passed out our new books and told us to start reading.
All it took was the first few pages and I was hooked on this amazing novel. A book I'll never forget. A first day of school that I will never forget either. It started me on my love of reading.
Last night, Brian and I caught the late showing of Capote. One of the most beautiful movies I have seen in such a long time. If you get the chance, please go see it. It made me want to run out and buy a copy of In Cold Blood and read it all over again.
Yesterday I was reminded that I really don't like traveling for work. I had to fly out to Wichita and drive an hour to Hutchinson Kansas for meeting. We were done in thirty minutes. No joke. Yet, I had to get up at 8am and didn't get back home until after 8pm that same night. My whole day was ruined.
Back when I was a compliance auditor for my previous company, I enjoyed the weekly travel. Visiting new cities, eating at some great restaurants, seeing a few sites or checking out a local gay bar. Running through airports, catching a flight, driving to my location, spending a few days with the employees, rushing back on a flight home, all while having a laptop, cell phone and PDA attached to me like a cancerous growth, made me feel like some sort of jetsetting businessman.
My company paid for me to stay the weekend if I liked. Getting a chance to visit friends and bloggers all over the United States. I never paid for a meal, spent any money going out or on clothes, so I always had money in the bank. I thought this was the life.
After one full year, I hardly ever ventured out of my hotelroom anymore. The thoughts of another hotel, rental car or eating by myself sickened my stomach. I couldn't wait until that job ended.
Finding out that I would be traveling a bit more now, caused me to get just a tad bit excited. Not anymore. I think the next stop for me in a month is Dodge City.
They've got to be fucking kidding me.
